


Keep Away

by lolahardy



Series: From Dark to Light [9]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Stripper/Exotic Dancer, Angst, Arguing, Class Differences, Eventual Fluff, Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, Internal Conflict, M/M, Power Imbalance, Slow Build, Strippers & Strip Clubs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-03 16:40:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1751462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lolahardy/pseuds/lolahardy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur tells Eames to leave.</p><p>Eames listens...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Beta-ed by the always lovely [Leesha](http://darlingleesha.tumblr.com)!

Arthur had worked the night before and all night that Friday.

He had been groped and pinched and he had to take it all with a smile on his face. His feet were killing him from standing and dancing. He was hungry but didn’t have a chance to get dinner yet, so his stomach was cramping up. His first break that night had been late too which just went right along with the tally he was keeping in his mind of all the things that were pissing him off.

What was worse was that Eames had not shown up.

It only fueled Arthur’s anger that he cared so much. During his break, that he finally got thirty minutes late, he went to the dressing rooms and passed out for twenty minutes, long enough to feel the ache in his back and his knees and the bruises forming on his ass from being pinched as if they were checking for ripeness. He sat up and rubbed his face, wondering if he could fake it for a few more hours, if he could actually fake it with any kind of enthusiasm because he couldn’t bear to hold a smile anymore.

After taking a few deep steady breaths, he began to tug down the knee pads on his legs he had left on after his set and threw them on his table before he stood up and left to make his rounds again.

With Eames not being there, he could only hope that he wouldn’t be accosted by some drunken businessman. He really wasn’t in the mood to get felt up anymore.

The absolute final straw came when he was pulled aside by the club manager and he was bitched at for not pulling enough dances for the night. He had done poorly and it was reflecting on the club. Arthur was too exhausted to argue back and say that he made more money than any dancer in the club as of late. He didn’t argue about how he had never missed a night of work, always gave the club its share without making attempts to hide it. He was too exhausted. So he took it with a nod of his head and looked down until he was sent back to work.  
When the end of his shift finally came, he was ready to just bury himself in bed and sleep for days. He was going to call out tomorrow, he was going to sleep and rest and forget this night ever happened. After changing into his jeans, t-shirt and his hoodie, he left the club without saying a word to anyone and went out into the parking lot where he saw Eames.

He didn’t feel any relief. He was angry he had gone through a shit night and that Eames hadn’t been there to make it better. He was angry that he had missed him, angry that he cared and he took out his anger on Eames.

Arthur stopped in his tracks when he saw Eames. It wasn’t as cold as it was before, so he wore his suit, his hands in his pants pockets. He removed them when he saw Arthur and pushed himself away from his car as he said,

“Good evening. I know I’m late.”

“You’re damn late.”

Arthur tightened his hold on his bag as he began to walk past Eames. He heard Eames follow though he maintained a distance.

“At least let me properly apologize. I did want to see you today, I just-”

Arthur turned to face him suddenly, Eames stopping immediately.

“What makes you think I care about your explanations? What makes you think I care that you show up at all?”

Eames’ expression fell and he opened his mouth to say something but Arthur kept going.

“Why did you even show up tonight anyway? You think you can just continue to try to buy me off and I’ll fuck you eventually?”

“I’m not-”

“Don’t tell me you’re going to say you appreciate my company. It’s obvious why you come here and what you hope to accomplish and I wish you would just stop! Don’t wait for me anymore, don’t buy me things, don’t ask for me, don’t look for me! Try to buy off some other whore.”

He spun on his heel and left, getting into his car after throwing his bag in and after turning on the engine, he pulled out and left without a backwards glance.

Arthur slept like he wanted to, waking up only to call out and then sleep some more. It had been one of those moments where he ended up regretting too much, thinking over too many things, hating too many things - his situation, his life, his job. He buried himself deep in his blankets and slept until he was just lying in bed, wide awake but unwilling to pick himself up.

He didn’t want to think about what he had said to Eames. He didn’t want to think about how he looked as he shouted at him. He didn’t want to think about whether or not Eames would ever show up again because he demanded him to.

When Arthur returned to work the following evening, he held his breath, waiting to see if Eames would show.

He didn’t.

There was a mixed sense of relief and of disappointment and he knew there was always the following night.

A solid week passed and Eames still didn’t show up.

By then, Arthur gave up. He was right back where he started only now he had memories to torture himself with.  
  



	2. Chapter 2

When Arthur told Eames to leave, Eames left.

The entire ride home that night, Eames looked out the window, feeling heartbroken, wondering what he had done to make Arthur fully reject him.

Then he had the horrible realization that maybe he hadn’t done anything but in fact, was looking into something that wasn’t really there. Arthur was probably just being nice to him for his money, humoring him. Eames shook his head at himself, feeling foolish now as well as heartbroken,

He stayed away from the club for as long as he could.

He kept himself busy with work, took some trips out of town and went home when he usually went to see Arthur. Nights were the worse for Eames - he couldn’t think of anything to do with himself then watch movies and think of Arthur.

As embarrassed as he was to admit it, he did touch himself when he recalled what Arthur did for him. He would lie in his bed and slide his hand under his pajama pants and grasp his cock, slowly tugging, touching, getting himself hard as he remembered the way Arthur felt on his lap, the way he smelled, how his ass felt against him. As he pulled down the foreskin around the head, precum already gathering at the head, he moved his fist a little faster. He groaned, having felt so close to Arthur, still remembering the warmth of his breath, how his body felt in his hands and how good it would have felt had he been able to get further with him.

When he came, the high was quickly erased as he immediately remembered he was home and by himself and Arthur wanted nothing to do with him.

Eames missed him, despite feeling wounded, but Arthur had made it perfectly clear to stay away from him. Out of moments of weakness, Eames would go to the club and hide in the back, just to long enough to see Arthur dance - then vanished before Arthur got on the floor. He hated to see him and not talk to him, not wait for him but the last thing he wanted was for Arthur to already have a negative mindset of him or rather a worse one.

After a few weeks, the heartbreak had a chance to turn to anger and Eames found it easier not to long for him anymore. He felt bitter about being shoved away for no reason, about being misjudged over actions that he had no intention of ever doing, of being told he was “just like them”...

Eames finally thought fuck it and went back to the club. Almost instantly, Eames lost his nerve, lost his anger and thought it best to leave but by then it had been too late. Arthur saw him but didn’t make a move towards him. With the last bit of his fury, as soon as different dancer approached him, he allowed them to talk to him, listening to their sweet talk, their obvious desperation and obvious hunger of his wallet. The new boy wasn’t half bad looking, slender, dark hair and vivid blue eyes with a cupid bow mouth though Eames could hardly listen, hardly care, his attention was focused on the fact that Arthur was there, near the stage, watching them both.

Eames had always turned down other dancers, waved off their want, their promises of more in the champagne room. Now he had no reason to turn them away. So once he heard,

“Would you like a private dance?”

Eames’ attention focused back to the new dancer, lovely yes, but not nearly as lovely as Arthur had been. Out of spite, out of bitterness, Eames agreed and went to the champagne room with the new dancer, resisting the urge to look back at Arthur. 


End file.
